Author's Note & Polls
Hey everyone, RoseSaiyan2 here. I do apologize for abruptly ending last chapter. I couldn't really find a clean place to wrap it up, lol, so I figured I should end it with Daikon and Weiss going on a "date" of sorts, even though they're still a little bit away from truly going on one.
I figured they deserved a bit more development last chapter, and they'll continue to grow closer as the story progresses. Hopefully, you guys liked the interaction between Yatsuhashi and Scarlett. That one may take a little longer to blossom, and I'm thinking the Vytal Tournament and festival will be the real catalyst for their relationship.
The most interesting pairing-which I think might actually develop even sooner than the main couple-is Turuk and Yang. Given Yang's personality and her... particular preference for Turuk, it feels like it's only a matter of time before that one becomes official.
Anyway, that's enough rambling from me. Here are a few polls to get you started:
Who should Weiss ask to the Beacon Dance?
A. Neptune
B. Daikon
Should I stick with the canon events surrounding the Beacon Dance? (Weiss asking Neptune, but getting rejected / Jaune trying to ask Weiss, but running away when she asks Neptune)
I. Yes, stick with the canon events.
II. No, go in a different direction.
Should Yang ask Turuk to go to the Beacon Dance with her?
I. YES! TOTALLY DO THAT!
II. No. Have them meet at the dance, then continue from there.
Will Scarlett ask Yatsuhashi to the Beacon Dance?
A. Yes. It will further develop their relationship.
B. No.
C. Nah, Yatsuhashi will ask her.
D. They both try to ask each other, but end up compromising and just going regardless.
Anyway, that's it for the polls for now. I hope you guys vote on each one! I think Shallot will come into the story, but it might be a little bit later. Also, I think I may change something regarding Mercury. I was setting him up for something with one of the OCs, but I've changed my mind. Instead, I will change something with both Mercury and Emerald, though that won't happen until a bit later down the line.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z / Kai / Super / Xenoverse or RWBY and their characters. I only own 4 of the 6 OCs. I have permission to use Tarro and Daikon from ComparedDreadX-those are his characters.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ruby's Complicated Feelings, Part II
Part I - Questions Without Answers
Location: Beacon Academy | Morning
The morning broke with that specific, heavy quality peculiar to dawns that follow nights where you've made a definitive psychological choice without ever consciously deciding to.
Ruby sat upright in her twin-sized bunk, staring down at her open palms, processing a stark reality:
She liked Nova.
She had liked Nova, she now realized with horrifying clarity, for significantly longer than she had been willing to admit to herself. The warning signs had been everywhere once she stopped editing the tape-every postponed thought labeled later, every sudden spike of unwanted warmth she had stubbornly refused to name, every involuntary pivot of her attention toward him before her brain could veto it. It had always been the same underlying truth.
She liked Nova, she had zero operational protocol for handling it, and she had now impulsively kissed him on the cheek twice. Two more kisses than she had ever delivered in a romantic context-which had stood at a clean zero prior to this week. In both instances, her motor functions had bypassed her conscious reasoning entirely-a neurological mutiny that she found deeply mortifying, balanced precariously against a tiny, fiercely guarded corner of her soul that didn't regret it at all.
She pressed her knuckles hard against her lips, staring out the glass.
The window framed the waking sprawl of Vale under a pale morning sky, the distant towers piercing a layer of clouds that were doing something genuinely artistic and poetic-scenery she would have usually devoured with wide-eyed enthusiasm.
Today, her mind refused to render anything except the lines of a specific face.
She shook her head violently.
Okay, she told herself, ticking off the ledger. Let's inventory the facts. Nova is my primary confidant and best friend, and I have cultivated-or rather, am actively cultivating-feelings that go severely beyond friendly parameters. This is brand-new emotional data. I lack the administrative architecture to process this because I've never had to run these files before. Miss Sala always advised honoring the people who make you feel anchored and letting them know. Well, I've certainly been "letting him know," albeit in ways entirely lacking in grace, planning, or dignity.
She paused.
Step one: Stop spontaneously ambushing his cheek with your face.
That seemed like a logical baseline.
Yang's voice suddenly filtered down from the top bunk, carrying that drowsy, too-perceptive drawl of someone who had been conscious for far longer than she was advertising. "You're projecting your internal monologue across the entire room, Rubes."
"I'm not speaking out loud," Ruby muttered into her pillow.
"You're doing that specific thing where you sit completely frozen while your facial expressions run through an entire internal committee meeting," Yang shot back. "Practically the same thing."
Ruby pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms tightly around her shins. "I'm fine."
"You kissed Nova on the cheek again yesterday."
"I'm aware."
"That's two documented strikes."
"I know!"
"So, how are we processing that data set?"
Ruby yanked her red hood down over her head, retreating into the dark, shadowed fabric like a turtle pulling into its shell.
"I'm managing it," she muffled from the depths of her hood.
Yang was silent for a beat. Then, shedding her usual teasing cadence for that rare, genuine softness she reserved exclusively for moments when Ruby was genuinely cornered: "You really like him, don't you?"
"I know," Ruby whispered, her voice shrinking to a fraction of its normal volume.
"Which isn't a crime."
"I know that too." She shoved the hood back up, staring bitterly at the popcorn ceiling. "I just don't know where to put everything. These feelings are massive, and my internal storage is completely full."
"Yeah," Yang murmured sympathetically. "That tends to be how it goes."
Team RWBY cycled through their morning routine with the smooth, subconscious synchronization of people who had cohabited long enough to master an unspoken ballet of preparation. Weiss moved with her trademark surgical efficiency. Blake already had a book open in one hand, reading while she laced her boots. Yang managed her golden mane with the casual ease of someone intimately familiar with high-maintenance hair.
Ruby moved through the motions on autopilot, alternating between thinking about Nova, thinking about thinking about Nova, and trying desperately to think about anything else-an exercise in distraction that reliably lasted about fifteen seconds before snapping right back to Nova.
They filed out into the corridor. Instantly, Yang executed a sharp tactical pivot toward Weiss, deploying the smug, predatory grin she had been road-testing since the previous evening.
"So," Yang purred innocently. "You and Daikon. Wandering Vale. All afternoon."
"We were executing a systematic search," Weiss retorted, deploying the icy precision of a debater defending her thesis.
"For two hours."
"Systematic investigations require time."
"And then you sat down for tea."
"Basic caloric replenishment is a physiological necessity-"
"At an intimate corner table."
"Spatial proximity does not imply-"
"For a solid hour."
Weiss hit that specific auditory plateau where she had run out of rhetorical escapes. "We discussed matters of mutual academic relevance, and I maintain that the entire excursion was strictly-"
"Adorably domestic," Yang supplied helpfully.
"I will not-"
"Princess," Daikon's voice drawled smoothly from the cross-hallway, manifesting with the terrifying, clockwork timing of someone who knew exactly when to drop an explosive into a conversation.
Weiss's meticulously constructed rebuttal dissolved instantly into static.
"-I will not be interrogated in a public thoroughfare," she stammered, veering wildly off script.
Daikon slipped seamlessly into the formation, occupying the natural conversational gap with the casual air of someone born to anchor the room. He didn't offer a follow-up remark. He didn't need to. The single nickname had done its kinetic work, painting a bright crimson hue across Weiss's cheeks that Yang cataloged with the triumphant glee of a researcher validating a grand theory.
Ruby watched the exchange unfold. For a fleeting second, the chaos of her own romantic panic receded, replaced by a warm, uncomplicated wave of amusement-the quiet satisfaction of watching two stubborn idiots slowly, painfully circle toward an inevitable conclusion.
A quiet smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Blake materialized at her shoulder, moving with her signature, ghost-like lack of footfall.
"He's training you," Blake stated quietly. Not an interrogation. Not an accusation-just the clinical directness she deployed when she wanted to bypass social pleasantries.
Ruby blinked, startled out of her observations. "You figured it out?"
"I brought it up yesterday, and your reaction confirmed it." Blake matched her stride step-for-step down the hall. "How long?"
"Two months," Ruby admitted softly. "Give or take."
"Ki work?"
Ruby halted mid-step, her eyes widening. "Wait-how did you-"
"My brothers have been utilizing ki infrastructure since they were old enough to stand," Blake said smoothly, her eyes remaining fixed ahead. "I recognize the physical signatures from a distance when someone is breaking through for the first time. The shifts in your center of gravity over the past few weeks haven't been subtle to anyone who knows what to look for." She paused, turning her amber gaze toward Ruby. "You're faster. Tighter. You've grounded your weight in a way you couldn't manage before."
Ruby absorbed the breakdown. "Is it that obvious?"
"To me," Blake replied simply. "I've been tracking your combat habits longer than anyone else on this campus." A beat passed. "You really ought to brief Weiss and Yang. They're going to put the pieces together eventually, and it's infinitely better coming directly from you."
"I know," Ruby sighed. "Soon."
"Soon," Blake echoed, using the definitive tone of someone marking an overdue deadline.
Then, dropping her voice to a register so quiet it barely registered above the ambient hall noise: "By the way... he reciprocates."
Ruby froze in her tracks, her boots locked to the linoleum. "What?"
Blake didn't break stride. "I know my brother," she murmured over her shoulder. "That's all."
She surged ahead, her book opening as she drifted back toward the front of the group, effectively closing the docket on the conversation.
Ruby stood marooned in the center of the corridor for three full seconds, paralyzed by the data dump. Her brain frantically searched for a mental file large enough to contain the revelation, came up entirely empty, and promptly short-circuited.
With a dazed, frantic blinking pattern, she sprinted to catch up with her team-spending the entirety of the walk to class attempting not to process a single word of what Blake had just said, and failing catastrophically.
Part II - What Professor Sala Noticed
Location: Classroom 3B | That Morning
Ruby was discovering, with mounting frustration, that she possessed zero stealth when it came to internal processing.
The subject on the whiteboard was historical Grimm engagement strategies-a topic she usually devoured with genuine enthusiasm, as she loved analyzing the structural mechanics of how conflicts evolved rather than just memorizing dates. Today, however, the lecture focused on escalation patterns during periods of elevated human emotional concentration. It was highly relevant, deeply fascinating, and currently managing to capture roughly twelve percent of her total brainpower.
The remaining eighty-eight percent was entirely occupied elsewhere.
She hadn't even realized she was drifting-that distinct, unfocused glazed look that takes over when your mind is operating in another room entirely-until she caught Professor Sala looking her way twice. Not with the sharp irritation of a strict instructor catching a dozing student, but with a quiet, observant calculation that had nothing to do with the textbook.
Professor Sala possessed a rare pedagogical style. She taught with an unforced, composed directness-clear explanations, deep engagement with student queries, and a profound patience born of someone who understood her field well enough to meet students wherever their comprehension level happened to be. She didn't perform theatrical enthusiasm, nor did she demand artificial engagement. From day one, Ruby had deeply respected that.
What Sala did excel at, however, was paying attention to the human variable in front of her.
After the bell rang and the rest of the lecture hall cleared out, the professor's calm voice cut through the rustle of packing bags: "Miss Rose. A moment of your time, please."
Ruby froze in the doorway with the universal, guilty posture of someone caught red-handed at something they hadn't realized was transparent.
Professor Sala waited patiently until the final student exited, letting the heavy oak door swing most of the way shut before turning her attention fully to Ruby with the calm deliberateness of someone executing a well-thought-out plan.
"You were physically present for this lecture, Miss Rose," Sala began smoothly, "but your operational bandwidth was entirely elsewhere."
Ruby opened her mouth to construct an excuse.
"I'm not issuing a reprimand," Sala intervened gently, cutting off the defense before it could clear her throat. "I'm simply inquiring if you're entirely alright."
The phrasing-devoid of academic coldness, free of administrative distance, and carrying an anchor of genuine, adult care-struck a nerve deep inside Ruby's chest, producing an unexpected emotional reaction.
All the rigid tension melted out of her shoulders.
"I'm okay," Ruby admitted softly, staring down at her boots. "I'm just... working through something."
"Something," Sala echoed. She paused, letting a subtle, perceptive shift soften her expression. "Or someone."
Ruby's facial features scrambled through three distinct panic stages in rapid succession.
"I have no intention of prying," Sala said, stepping away from the desk to stand by the tall, arched window, gazing out over the sprawling Beacon courtyards where students drifted between classes. "However, having taught long enough to recognize the distinct telemetry of a human being carrying a brand-new emotional payload-something they haven't yet built the vocabulary to articulate-I can tell when a student is anchored elsewhere."
She turned back, her dark eyes locking onto Ruby with a lifetime of quiet experience.
"Would you object if I asked you a personal question?"
Ruby blinked, disarmed. "Uh. Sure. Go ahead."
"Is there an individual," Sala asked quietly, "who makes you feel fundamentally anchored in a way you haven't experienced before? Someone whose mere presence changes the entire atmospheric pressure of your day?"
The answer didn't require a cognitive search. It didn't come from her logical brain at all; it surged straight from her chest, manifesting as that familiar, radiant warmth that carried a face, a voice, and a set of dark eyes she had spent the last year cataloging.
Her hand drifted instinctively to her sternum. "There... might be someone like that," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
A profound, luminous smile touched Sala's lips-a look that held layers of personal memory far deeper than the classroom walls. "Then cherish that," the older woman advised softly. "Do not rush it, and certainly do not dismiss it. What you are experiencing right now isn't strange, improper, or embarrassing. It belongs to you. It is entirely yours."
Ruby looked down at her hands, wrestling with the confusion. "I just... I don't know what to do with any of it. I've never dealt with this. I don't know the rules."
"Nobody possesses a manual the first time," Sala replied with a comforting nod. "That is precisely the point of the experience." She drifted slowly back toward her desk, a subtle signal that the private conference was winding down. "What I can offer you is this: the chaos and disorientation you're feeling right now are not mechanical errors to be immediately fixed. They are part of a transition. Give yourself permission to feel your way through it without demanding instant clarity."
"Did you... ever feel like this?" Ruby asked, curiosity breaking through her hesitation. "Before you figured it out?"
Sala let out a soft, genuine laugh, rich with the echo of personal history. "Completely. I was an absolute, unmitigated disaster about it for quite some time. My husband would corroborate that testimony without hesitation." A brief, tender warmth flickered across her features. "I had to learn to stop viewing those feelings as an obstruction and start treating them as vital information."
Ruby tilted her head. "What kind of information?"
"The highest order," Sala said. "The kind that reveals dimensions of your own character you never knew existed."
Ruby stared at her teacher, finally placing the elusive quality she had sensed in Sala's demeanor since day one. It wasn't just the professional dedication of a good educator; it was the heavy, intentional investment of someone watching out for her with personal, protective gravity.
"You know..." Ruby murmured before her filter could catch the thought. "The way you talk to me... sometimes you remind me of what I imagine a mother would sound like."
A flash of raw, intense emotion flickered across Sala's face so rapidly that an ordinary observer would have missed it entirely.
"I will accept that as a profound compliment, Miss Rose," Sala said after a heartbeat. Her tone remained level, but the underlying warmth deepened by a fraction that defied easy explanation.
At that exact moment, Ruby's scroll buzzed aggressively in her pocket-a remote alert from her team reminding her of their next scheduled location.
"I have to-" Ruby started, panicking slightly.
"Run along," Sala smiled, stepping aside. "Don't keep them waiting. My door remains open whenever you need to talk."
Ruby offered a breathless expression of gratitude, turned on her heel, and bolted from the room at a velocity that left a trail of swirling red rose petals drifting in the quiet air of the empty lecture hall.
Sala remained by the window, watching the distant blur of red streak across the academy grounds, wrapped in private thoughts.
She's fallen completely for him, hasn't she?
The thought was stated not as an uncertainty, but as an undeniable physical law.
Rhubar stepped quietly through the doorway from the adjoining office, having picked up on the acoustic signature of Ruby's hasty departure.
"What was that about?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Guidance," Sala answered smoothly, turning away from the glass. "She came to me carrying something she couldn't yet name, and I helped her find a few coordinates."
Rhubar studied his wife's face with the expert eye of a man who had spent decades reading the subtle, microscopic shifts between her public mask and her private self.
"It's about Nova, isn't it?"
Sala allowed a gentle, affectionate smile to surface. "She's head over heels."
He absorbed the news, a slow grin forming. "Does she have any idea that we're-"
"No," Sala interrupted softly. "She doesn't require a pedigree to trust me. She simply does, for reasons she couldn't articulate if she tried." She began calmly gathering her lecture notes for the next period. "Which is, when you really think about it, a rather magnificent thing."
Rhubar considered the sentiment, his expression softening into quiet amusement.
"Yeah," he agreed. "It really is."
They turned and walked out together into the sunlit corridor, leaving the quiet classroom behind them, undisturbed except for a few scattered red petals resting silently on the floorboards.
Part III - Observed
Location: Beacon Academy Grounds | Lunchtime
The cafeteria hummed with the standard midday energy of a bustling high-academics campus-loud enough to generate a continuous white-noise backdrop, yet quiet enough within localized seating clusters to permit intimate conversations. Both major tables-Team RWBY and their sprawling, unofficial orbital cohort of JNPR and NDTSA-were packed tightly, the midday meal proceeding with the casual, rhythmic comfort of people who dined together frequently enough to bypass all social friction.
Ruby had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout most of lunch. Not the distracted, hyperactive quiet of the morning, but something deeper and more internal-the heavy silence of a person consciously mapping out the correct approach to a delicate hurdle.
Across the room, Nova rose from his seat, loaded his tray, and began navigating toward the exit doors.
Ruby made an executive decision.
"Nova, hang on!"
He paused, turning smoothly as she intercepted him near the threshold. The cafeteria din faded slightly into the background. He regarded her with his signature baseline of focus-unhurried, entirely present, and deeply attentive.
"Hey," he said, shifting his tray. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you," she said, her voice dropping a register. "About a few things. And... I think you probably wanted to talk to me, too."
A micro-pause hung in the air. "Yeah, I did." He glanced down the sunlit corridor. "Walk with me?"
"Walk," she agreed instantly.
They bypassed the main halls and headed out toward the secondary training grounds-stopping short of the dense tree line of Forever Fall, choosing instead a wide, secluded clearing that caught the harsh afternoon rays at an optimal angle and remained blissfully deserted during the lunch hour. The familiarity of the terrain acted as an immediate anchor. She felt her shoulder blades drop an inch as they stepped onto the turf.
They initiated a quick sparring session first, not just because training was the structural reason for their meetup, but because translating their thoughts into kinetic movement remained the most honest, unfiltered way they knew how to communicate. The ki flowed through Ruby with far greater fluidity than it had two months ago-not miraculously, but reliably, like a heavily traveled footpath worn smooth by repetition. Her aura ignited in that deep, electric sapphire-blue she had mentally cataloged as her operational signature. They traded rapid strikes, parried, broke distance, and flowed back together with the synchronized timing of two people who had memorized each other's reflexes.
Nova called a halt after roughly an hour of sustained pacing.
"You've hit the threshold," he announced, stepping back and wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow. "You're ready for the next phase."
Her silver eyes dilated instantly.
"Flying?" she blurted out.
"Flight," he confirmed.
The sound she produced was technically a collection of distinct English words, though they smashed together into a rapid-fire sequence of pure, unadulterated enthusiasm.
He strolled to the absolute center of the clearing, standing with the patient, resigned amusement of a mentor waiting out a student's initial wave of shock.
Ruby reined herself in. More or less.
"Okay," she demanded, dropping into a ready posture. "How?"
"You already have the core mechanics locked down," he explained calmly. "You've been manipulating internal ki for two months. The only structural difference between what you've been doing and what comes next is vector alignment." He shifted his stance. "Up until now, you've been projecting your energy outward into kinetic force. Flight is simply redirecting that output downward, pressing against the ambient floor. The resulting resistance generates vertical lift."
She stared skeptically down at her boots.
"So I push down," she summarized slowly, "and it pushes me up."
"Essentially. Don't overthink the concept of flying. Focus entirely on the energy pathway. Direct the warmth downward, exactly like you would for a strike, but press it into the earth."
She took a long, centering breath. Closed her eyes for three seconds. The internal warmth flared up instantly-a welcome, familiar anchor she no longer had to hunt for. She gathered a concentrated thread of it, funneled it down through her torso, past her hips, through her legs, and right out through the soles of her feet, driving it into the soil-
She levitated approximately three inches off the ground.
And immediately tipped over sideways.
Nova caught her by the elbow before she hit the turf. Once again, a recurring structural theme in their mentorship.
"Good," he noted evenly.
"I crashed," she groaned.
"You also elevated," he corrected, keeping his grip steady until she found her balance. "That's the entire objective. You established lift." He released her arm. "Do it again."
Over the next forty minutes, she attempted the maneuver eleven more times. The outcomes varied wildly: three inches of elevation followed by an ungraceful tumble; six inches followed by a sideways drift; an inexplicable horizontal slide across the grass; and finally, on the twelfth try, a solid, glorious four-second hover at roughly knee height. She hung suspended in the air before slowly drifting back down to the turf, standing there with slightly trembling legs and the awestruck expression of a girl who had just broken a fundamental rule of physics.
"Nova."
"I saw it," he said softly.
"I was floating."
"You were."
"For four full seconds."
"Almost five," he amended with a faint smile. "But yes."
She looked down at the twin impressions her boots had carved into the grass, then up at the vast expanse of sky above the clearing-a sky that suddenly felt infinitely larger, infinitely more accessible.
"I'm actually going to be able to fly," she whispered.
"Yes," he said, his eyes softening. "You are."
She lifted her gaze to meet his. He was watching her with that rare, unmasked expression-the unguarded look she had quietly preserved in her memory. The familiar, radiant heat surged through her chest, intertwining with Blake's parting words echoing in the back of her mind: He likes you back. It was a data point she still lacked the storage capacity to process fully.
"You mentioned you wanted to talk to me," she prompted, breaking the quiet. "Before we started the lesson."
"Right." He paused, his expression shifting into that familiar, methodical gear. "I wanted to... address the elephant in the room. The past week."
She felt her face flare up instantly.
"The past week?" she squeaked.
"You've been..." He searched for a diplomatic phrasing. "Processing something. And I'm aware that at least part of that situation involved circumstances where I was present. I just wanted to ensure you aren't feeling uncomfortable around me because of it."
"I'm not uncomfortable," she fired back immediately.
"Good." He held her gaze. "I simply wanted to verify that our dynamic-that things between us are-" He stalled, his brow furrowing slightly as he searched for the right noun. This rare hesitation told her how carefully he was treading. "That nothing has fundamentally altered between us. That's what I needed to clear up."
She stared at him, drinking in the deliberate, careful construction of his words.
"Nothing's changed," she said softly-a statement that was simultaneously true, wildly inaccurate, and precisely the correct baseline to establish for the moment.
He nodded slowly. "Good."
She hesitated for a beat, then squared her shoulders. "Can I say something back?"
"Go ahead."
"I am figuring a lot of things out," she admitted, looking away for a second before pinning him with her silver eyes. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not. But whatever conclusions I eventually reach, I don't want it to make things weird between us. You are... easily one of the most important people in my world. That remains true, regardless of anything else."
He studied her for a long, unbroken interval-that intense, absolute stillness where she knew he wasn't analyzing her from a distance, but was entirely locked into the present second.
"Same," he said simply.
The single word carried zero embellishment. It landed with absolute, grounding weight. It was, impossibly, the exact right answer.
A bright, genuine smile broke across her face.
Nova reached out, caught the top of her head, and gave her red hood a rough, affectionate ruffle.
Ruby puffed her cheeks out in exaggerated indignation, swatting half-heartedly at his hand.
Part IV - The Watching
Location: The Edge of the Training Grounds | That Afternoon
They stumbled across the scene almost by accident-which was the official version Yang intended to retail for the remainder of the academic year, seeing as it possessed a technical foundation of truth while conveniently omitting the detail that she had been tracking Nova and Ruby's operational movements with escalating curiosity for nearly two months, finally electing to indulge her investigative impulses today.
The collective physical reaction, the exact moment the sparring ignited in the clearing, was instantaneous and involuntary.
Weiss's jaw dropped.
She remained frozen in that posture for roughly forty-five uninterrupted seconds.
Across the turf, Nova and Ruby wove through the open space framed by flashing ribbons of emerald and brilliant sapphire-blue. They exchanged strikes with the frictionless coordination of partners who had synchronized their internal metronomes-moving without theatricality, void of any desire to grandstand, executing the clean, brutal efficiency of a genuine training session anchored in absolute mutual trust. Ruby's physical form carried the unmistakable signature of disciplined instruction; it was distinctly detached from her default combat rhythm, bearing the raw, recent adjustments of a student still integrating core mechanics, yet polished enough to signal serious dedication.
She was blindingly fast. Noticeably faster than she had ever been, operating with a newly established center of gravity that radiated heavy, immovable stability. Every motion utilized her entire physical chain rather than relying purely on her upper-body dominance.
"When on earth did she-" Weiss sputtered, her voice pitching upward.
"A while back, apparently," Daikon drawled, leaning back against a nearby tree.
Weiss whipped around, fixing him with a glare. "You knew?"
"I mentioned I knew," Daikon countered, gesturing casually toward the rest of NDTSA with the calm serenity of a man who had confessed his sins and accepted absolution. "I've been awake enough times when Nova slipped out early. I connected the dots."
"And you didn't think to-"
"Not my circus," he interrupted smoothly.
"She is my literal teammate-"
"And it was her private arrangement," Daikon replied, deploying the infuriating, measured logic of someone who had long since evaluated all ethical angles. "Would you appreciate someone tailing you and demanding disclosure regarding your personal training sessions?"
Weiss opened her mouth to mount a defense.
"Think carefully," he added.
She snapped her mouth shut, utterly checkmated.
A few yards away, Turuk stood watching the clearing with a complex, layered expression-a blend of fierce pride, the deep, foundational fondness of a brother watching someone he loved achieve something he always knew they were capable of, and a quiet, underlying awareness of the deeper current between them.
He glanced down at Blake. "How far along are they?"
"Further than my initial estimates," she admitted, her amber eyes tracking every movement. "Nova is an exceptionally disciplined instructor, and Ruby is a remarkably fast absorber." She paused, a slight shadow of a smile playing on her lips. "They complement each other's operational profiles remarkably well."
Turuk slanted a knowing look at his sister. "In that way, you mean."
"Don't," she warned flatly.
"I didn't utter a single syllable."
"You're broadcasting it entirely through your facial micro-expressions."
Turuk turned his attention back to the clearing, attempting to flatten his expression into absolute stone-which achieved precisely the level of subtlety one would expect.
Scarlett stood with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, evaluating the bout with the sharp, technical eye of a seasoned tactician. "She has legitimate potential," she observed. "That isn't just a byproduct of Nova's curriculum. She possessed the raw architecture for this all along-she just lacked the systemic framework required to harness it."
"He built her that framework," Aiko noted quietly.
"Yeah," Scarlett murmured. "He certainly did."
Down in the center of the field, the sparring session wound down, dissolving into a quiet, animated exchange. The distance and ambient noise prevented the observing group from catching any dialogue, and an unspoken wave of mutual respect rippled through the spectators, keeping them anchored where they stood. There was an intense, private gravity surrounding the two of them in the clearing-the distinct bubble of two individuals being wholly, transparently honest with one another.
Without a single word passing between them, the watching party collectively stepped backward, dissolving back toward the treeline.
"We should clear out," Turuk suggested quietly.
"Yeah," Yang agreed. She cast one final, lingering look toward her sister-capturing the unguarded, luminous expression Ruby wore when she was speaking her absolute truth-before turning her back on the scene. "Yeah. Let's give them some space."
Part V - What She Did
Location: Outside Team RWBY's Dormitory | That Evening
Time had completely dissolved on them-an occupational hazard that always accompanied a good training session, seamless conversation, and a late-afternoon sky doing magnificent things over Vale while two people forgot to glance at their scrolls.
By the time they finally navigated back to the student dormitory corridor, the evening had settled into the deep, echoing hush characteristic of a campus after hours.
They halted where the hallway branched off.
"Good night," Nova said quietly. "You did exceptional work out there today."
"I actually floated," she reminded him, a grin tugging at her lips.
"You did."
"For nearly five whole seconds."
"Four point eight," he corrected, a ghost of a smile playing on his features. "Effectively five."
She laughed softly, pivoting toward her door. Then, her posture locked up. A sudden, powerful impulse flared in her chest.
I want to give you something, she thought. As a thank-you. As a-well, I don't quite have a label for it yet. But something real.
"Wait," she called out.
He turned back, raising an eyebrow.
She stepped back toward him under the overhead hall light, moving with the deliberate, unhurried grace of someone making an active choice rather than reacting on pure instinct. This time, she was doing it entirely on purpose.
"Is there something you wanted to-" he began.
"Do you mind if I speak first?" she interrupted gently.
He went still, waiting.
"I've been trying to map out what I'm feeling," she said, holding his dark gaze without flinching. "I haven't got it all figured out yet. But I know that you are easily one of the best things in my life right now. I know that spending time with you is my favorite part of nearly every day, and that our training sessions have meant the world to me." She locked her eyes onto his. "And I know that I want to keep figuring this out with you. However that looks. Wherever that leads."
He didn't move a muscle.
"And," he prompted softly after a beat.
"And."
She stepped forward, rising deliberately onto her tiptoes. She leaned in and pressed her lips firmly against his cheek.
The third time.
This one wasn't a sudden reflex or a frantic tactical error. This one was entirely, unreservedly chosen.
She settled back down onto her heels, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs, and met his eyes one last time.
"Goodnight, Nova," she whispered.
She spun on her heel, marched straight to her door, swiped her scroll, pushed the heavy wood open, and slipped inside, letting it click shut behind her.
In the hallway, there was absolute silence. No movement. No spoken reply.
Back inside the room, she leaned her back against the door, exhaling a breath she felt like she'd been holding for a mile.
From the top bunk, Yang's voice drifted down through the dark. "Rubes."
"Give me three seconds," Ruby wheezed.
Her heart was performing acrobatics. Her face felt roughly the color of a ripe tomato. This deliberate version of events felt entirely different from the accidental ones, carrying a freight-train load of vulnerability that was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
"I actually did it on purpose this time," she confessed to the room.
"We are aware," Yang replied, dripping with sisterly warmth. "We saw the whole thing."
Ruby whipped around. The entire room had converged. Blake had set her book down entirely; Weiss was staring rigidly anywhere except the door; while Scarlett, Aiko, and Pyrrha were all standing around with varying expressions ranging from undisguised delight to aggressive attempts at looking like they hadn't been eavesdropping through the transom.
"You guys were watching?" Ruby groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"We were strictly observing," Yang corrected smoothly.
"You were completely spying."
"We may have operated on a strong predictive hypothesis that tonight's timeline carried historical significance," Weiss stated with supreme, academic dignity.
Ruby dropped her hands and shoved her face directly into both palms, producing a muffled, catastrophic groan of sheer teenage embarrassment.
Before she could fully descend into the floorboards, Yang slid off her bunk, crossed the room, and wrapped both arms tightly around her shoulders. "Hey. Look at me."
Ruby peeked through her fingers.
"How are you holding up?" Yang asked softly.
"I'm terrified," Ruby admitted.
"Completely fair."
"Also..." She hesitated, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Also kind of amazing?"
Yang smiled-the real, unfiltered smile that belonged exclusively to an older sister who had watched her little sibling grow up and felt a profound, fierce wave of pride.
"Yeah," Yang murmured. "That's also entirely fair."
What followed-unfolding against the backdrop of getting ready for bed, wrapped in that comfortable, unshakable sanctuary of women who knew how to dissect heavy truths without crushing themselves under the weight-was the longest, most honest conversation Ruby had ever shared about her inner life.
She laid out every detail of what she'd told him in the hallway. She recounted Professor Sala's advice-the real version, unedited and raw. She mentioned Blake's blunt declaration that he likes you back, which prompted Blake to emit a strange, defensive feline sound that translated roughly to I retain the right to withhold operational context, which was peak Blake.
She confessed that she still had no blueprint for what came next.
"That's completely fine," Pyrrha said gently from across the room. "You don't need to have the entire roadmap written tonight."
"You were honest with him about where your head is at," Weiss added, her tone uncharacteristically supportive. "That requires a degree of courage most people twice your age avoid."
"And he didn't bolt," Scarlett pointed out. "That's a very solid data point."
"He said same," Aiko chimed in very quietly from the corner, instantly pivoting to stare intently at a poster on the wall as if she had spoken entirely by accident.
Ruby blinked, snapping her attention to her. "He said same?"
"When you told him he was one of the most important people in your world," Aiko muttered to the wallpaper. "That was his response."
Ruby let the word wash over her.
"That's open to interpretation," she argued cautiously.
"It's a data point," Blake noted dryly.
Ruby replayed that single syllable in her mind-delivered in his flat, unhurried cadence, loaded with the deliberate economy that meant every single letter had been weighed and chosen.
She thought about the warmth in her chest.
She thought about the look in his eyes when she'd managed those four seconds of flight.
She thought about a year's worth of suppressed moments filed away under later, realizing that the file cabinet was officially overflowing and demanded some serious structural organization.
Just not tonight.
Instead, she crawled under the covers, stared up at the dorm ceiling, and allowed herself to simply feel it-a brand-new, fragile, terrifyingly warm thing that belonged entirely to her, without demanding that it instantly transform into anything more than what it was right now.
"Sala said it's information," Ruby whispered into the dark. "About yourself. The best kind."
"Smart woman," Yang agreed softly from the other side of the room.
"Yeah," Ruby smiled, closing her eyes. "She really is."
Part VI - On the Other Side of the Wall
Location: Team NDTSA's Dormitory | That Same Evening
Nova sat motionless on the edge of his mattress, his hands resting heavily against his knees, locked in that profound, unblinking stillness that overtook him only when his mind was actively processing deep internal variables rather than simply enjoying silence.
Slowly, his fingers drifted upward, coming to rest against his cheek.
Right there. The exact spot. The third time.
He replayed every syllable of what she had delivered in the hallway-not just the concluding sentence, but the entire architecture of her confession. I've been trying to figure out what I feel. Followed by, However that looks. Wherever that goes. The raw, unfiltered candor of it. The absence of theatricality or pretense. The deliberate, chosen courage behind the gesture.
He examined the familiar, steady warmth that bloomed across his chest as he pictured her looking up at him. It was a heat he had spent a considerable amount of time deliberately filing away under other, safer categories.
Now, looking back, he had to confront the reality of why he had been filing it in the first place.
Turuk materialized in the doorway, adopting the studied, neutral expression of a man who was pretending he had absolutely no idea what his brother's internal state looked like.
He maintained the illusion for roughly three seconds.
"Don't," Nova warned flatly.
"I haven't uttered a single word," Turuk protested smoothly.
"Your micro-expressions are practically broadcasting a thesis statement."
Turuk strolled into the room, dropped onto the edge of his own bunk, and fixed the space between them with the clinical interest of an investigator opening a case file. "You're gone for her."
Nova offered zero verbal acknowledgment.
"You've been gone for her for quite a while now," Turuk pressed gently.
Still nothing.
"And she has apparently arrived at the exact same conclusion," Turuk continued, leaning back. "Which, if my understanding of human dynamics is correct, is generally classified as a positive development."
A heavy, deliberate silence settled over the room.
"She's-" Nova started, then choked off the sentence.
Turuk waited patiently.
"She is exceptional," Nova finally murmured, his voice dropping to a quiet, reverent register-as if speaking the truth out loud permanently anchored it to reality. "She is genuinely extraordinary, and she possesses virtually zero concept of how much she actually carries. She is easily one of the most-I don't even have the proper noun for it."
"I suspect you do," Turuk observed softly. "You're simply refusing to spend it yet."
Nova stared blankly at the opposite wall. "She's seventeen."
"So are you."
"I'm chronologically older."
"By a handful of months," Turuk countered with a dry smirk. "And we both know you aren't hiding behind an age gap as your real defense."
Another long, heavy pause.
"No," Nova admitted quietly. "I'm not."
"So what is the actual obstacle?"
Nova looked down at his palms. "I refuse to rush something that is still organically taking shape." He tightened his grip on his knees. "She stated clearly that she's still sorting out her feelings. I'm... I'm sorting through mine as well. We are occupying the exact same space right now. I believe we both deserve the right to exist in that space for a while before either of us forces the issue."
Turuk studied his brother's face, the playful edge completely dropping out of his demeanor.
"That," Turuk said with quiet respect, "is perhaps the most mature, measured, and genuinely decent conclusion you could have reached."
"Was it the correct one?" Nova asked, a rare trace of uncertainty slipping into his tone.
"I believe so," Turuk nodded. "Yes. Absolutely."
Nova drifted back to staring at the wall, then down at his hand, before letting his gaze drift aimlessly toward the ceiling.
"She managed to float today," he noted softly, a faint, involuntary smile touching his lips. "For four point eight seconds."
Turuk's eyebrows rose. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." A brief, reflective pause. "She looked like-" He stopped himself.
"Like what?"
Nova took a slow, measured breath. "Like she had always possessed the inherent right to do it. Like she had just unlocked a door that had belonged to her all along."
Turuk remained silent for a long moment, letting the weight of the observation settle.
Then, quietly: "You're going to have to talk to her about everything eventually."
"I know," Nova replied without hesitation.
"Not the ki training," Turuk clarified. "The real history. What we are. Where our bloodline originates. What that implies for our future." He paused, his expression hardening with serious intent. "She is carving out a permanent position in your life, brother. She has earned the right to know the unvarnished version of who you are."
Nova turned the words over in his mind.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "She does."
He leaned back, resting his head against the pillow, staring up into the dark shadows of the ceiling. He thought about a girl with luminous silver eyes who had stood in a chilly corridor and delivered absolute truth, who had pressed her lips to his cheek with total, deliberate intent before retreating to her quarters. And he realized the absolute least he could do was match that vulnerability when the time came.
The thought was terrifying, completely correct, and belonged to an impending later that he was going to have to stop locking away in a filing cabinet.
Soon.
★ END OF CHAPTER TEN ★
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this two-part filler. It was definitely weighted a bit more toward the main pairing, but don't worry-the rest of the cast will get plenty of time in the spotlight as well.
This chapter was really just about letting Nova and Ruby take that next organic step forward. Though Ruby didn't quite drop a full confession just yet, we're definitely inching closer to the real thing. I'm currently eyeing somewhere around the end of Volume 2 for her eventual, full confession.
On top of that, the big reveal to Blake regarding Nova and Turuk's parents is looming large on the horizon, likely hitting near the end of Volume 2 as well. That's going to set up a massive internal conflict for Blake throughout the entirety of Volume 3, where she'll be torn apart over whether or not to tell her brothers the truth-mostly because she loves them fiercely and is terrified of losing them.
Anyways, that's all for now. Catch you in the next one!
Next: Chapter TWELVE - "A Minor Hiccup"